Graveyard Tales
by Definition of a Writer
Summary: "The first time she came, he was there. At first, she'd thought the graveyard was empty, and she certainly expected it to be - the final hours of Valentine's Day weren't a popular time to visit dead loved ones. But there he was, staring at the grave beside the one she had come to visit." Love blossoms in the strangest of places - a graveyard. (Fabina - AU - Rated K - Oneshot)


**Disclaimer: **I do not own House of Anubis, the characters in it, and the locations used.

**A/N:** Hey people, new and old! This is a little oneshot I wrote, completely AU and completely unrelated to Scarred, for those of you that have read it. I was going to wait to post this but couldn't. Enjoy!

* * *

_February 14th, 2006_

The first time she came, he was there.

At first, she'd thought the graveyard was empty, and she certainly expected it to be - the final hours of Valentine's Day weren't a popular time to visit dead loved ones. But there he was, flowers in hand, staring at the grave right beside the one she had come to see. _Joy Mercer_ was the name on his, and it was a name she didn't recognize.

From where she stood, she couldn't really see what he looked like. The only thing she could tell in the darkness was that he had dark brown hair and he seemed to be somewhere around her age. Twelve? Thirteen? He didn't acknowledge her, she didn't even know if he'd seen her, so she said nothing.

She focused her attention on the grave before her, and let the familiar grief overwhelm her.

_Aaron Martin - Evelyn Martin_

_Born: February 24th, 1967 - Born: September 15th, 1971_

_Died: February 14th, 2005_

_Husband and Wife, Parents, and Eternal Friends_

When she tried and failed to muffle the sob that was ripped from her, the boy didn't look at her. He didn't even flinch. She wasn't sure if he was deaf or if he didn't want to bother her, but either way, she was glad.

She needed this moment to mourn her parents in peace.

They sat there in silence, complete strangers grieving over completely different people, each caught up in their own memories. Neither moved for what must have been hours - the only movement was their chests as they breathed, and the occasional ripple that rocked her body as another sob escaped her.

It was she who left first, when the church bells nearby rang out midnight. She stood, put a hand on the grave, and let a few final tears stream down her cheeks.

_Happy Valentine's Day, Mom and Dad. I miss you. I miss you so much._

Then she turned, and she left.

If she had looked back, she would have seen the boy staring after her.

* * *

_February 14th, 2007_

The boy was there again, the same flowers in hand, already sitting down in front of the grave with the name _Joy Mercer_. His hair had been cut a little shorter this year, and meanwhile, she'd let her hair grow out to her shoulders.

She was 13, she was without any friends, she was without parents, and she was in more pain than ever.

Life with her gran was quiet. They lived a distance away from the city, and she had been homeschooled since she'd moved in with her. While her gran was nice, caring, and considerate, she wasn't the best friend she needed in her life right now.

She had wondered if the boy would be here tonight. She'd thought about him from time to time, at the most random moments. In the few times she'd visited the city, she'd seen boys with the exact same structure as him, but she never knew if they were actually him - she had yet to see his face.

Suddenly, the boy extended his hand to her, still not looking towards her. She was startled by this new development, and minorly confused, thinking for a moment that he was offering her a hand to hold. Then she realized that he was holding out one of his flowers.

A rose. A black rose.

She took it, a bittersweet smile gracing her face as she glanced at him. She opened her mouth to say thank you, then decided against it before she could.

Now was not the time for speaking. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

This time, it was he who left first. He laid the rest of the roses down at the base of the grave and walked away. She stayed there for a few seconds more, but for some reason, sitting there without him beside her felt off and empty. So she laid the rose down and walked away, her mind a confusing whirlwind of depression and curiosity.

When she got home, the first thing she did was search the meaning of black roses.

_Black Rose - Farewell._

It was only later she realized that for the first time, she hadn't cried when visiting her parents' grave.

* * *

_February 14th, 2008_

Another year passed. They moved closer to the city, and she was able to go to school. By the end of her first semester, she was wishing she was homeschooled again. The students were cold and cruel, and those few who weren't ignored her altogether. Jabs about being a parentless child was something she got every other day.

_Look, there goes the orphan girl._

_I heard she was there when they died._

_Her grandmother is insane._

_I don't know why she hasn't just killed herself yet._

14 had been a hard year for her, and it was only halfway over.

But when she came to the graveyard at her typical 10:00 pm, he was there, and she could breath a bit easier, even in the presence of her dead parents.

And for this reason, she gathered the nerve to speak.

"Who was she?" she asked quietly, so quietly he could probably barely hear her. But he did - she could tell by the way his body tensed and he stopped breathing for a moment.

"She was my best friend," he replied slowly, and his voice surprised her for no particular reason. Could it have been the voice itself or the dark emotions held within it? "She still is my best friend, even if she's…" He shook his head. "We'd known each other since birth. We were in the same classes every year, and she came over almost every day. We fought sometimes, but by the next day we were all smiles and friendship again. She meant the world to me."

"I am sorry for your loss," she whispered.

He sighed. "So am I. She died a hero. There was a school shooting, and she put herself in front of one of the younger kids there. She took the bullet meant for the child, and she saved his life. But she lost her own." He lapsed into silence, until he spoke again. "Who were they?"

Pain stabbed her to her core.

"They were my parents. They died in a car crash. I was in the wreck, but the damage was mainly to the front half of the car. I got _lucky_," she said bitterly. "I have a few scars from it, but they both died before the ambulance could even get there."

Blood filled her vision, and she swore she could hear her mother cry out in pain for a split second. Then she blinked, and she was back in the present.

"That's horrible," he said, and all she could do was nod in agreement. His next words took her off guard. "Tell me about them."

"What do you mean?"

"Just… share. Small things. To pass the time. I don't want to leave yet, but I don't want to be in the silence anymore. The quiet makes me think too much."

She paused, searching for anything she could give him. "Um… my mother hated tea, but my dad was a fanatic about it. They met at a coffee shop, where he accidentally dumped his coffee all over her. My dad proposed to her in that same coffee shop - she was a sucker for romantic gestures, so she appreciated that one. My mom couldn't stand the color blue. One time my dad pushed me so hard on the swing that I actually flipped over the bar it was attached to."

"They sound like wonderful people."

"They were."

While she'd originally thought talking about them would hurt, especially since she had just purposely delved into her old memories of them, she found that it actually eased her pain.

But the clock struck midnight, and it was time for her to leave. So she stood, her chest tightening as she began walking out of the graveyard. The thought that she wouldn't see him for another 365 days after this hurt her more than she expected it to - after all, she hadn't even seen his full face before. She didn't know what color his eyes were.

She froze when he spoke again.

"I'm Fabian."

It took a moment, but a slow smile spread her lips.

"I'm Nina." She bit down on the grin, knowing it wasn't appropriate in a graveyard. "I'll see you next year… Fabian."

* * *

_February 14th, 2009_

She didn't see Fabian next year.

She was surprised when he wasn't by the grave as usual, but she pushed down her worries. He was just running late. Surely he'd show up.

He didn't.

She stayed until 2:00 am just to be sure, and the whole time, her hands were clenched tight around the black roses she'd brought herself this year, uncaring of the thorns digging into her palms. This year, there was a thin layer of snow on the ground from the day before.

The blood from her hands created a ghastly contrast against the white.

There were tears running down her cheeks for the first time in months, this time having no distraction from her sadness over her parents' passing. Before she left, she laid the black roses on her parents' grave.

Then she moved a few to Joy Mercer's, because the sight of her grave without the typical roses felt off. She didn't think her parents would've minded, had they been there.

She had a sleepless night, and another the next, unaware of the fact that Fabian was currently crying in front of Joy's grave at the sight of the roses he didn't put there and the thought that he'd missed his chance to see Nina.

* * *

_February 14th, 2010_

She almost didn't show up that night, not wanting to spend the night alone once more if the mysterious Fabian didn't come again. But the thought of him, alone and without her as he stared at the grave of his best friend, bothered her too much to stay home.

When she got there, he wasn't in front of Joy's grave, and her heart may have broken a little.

"Nina?"

She spun around with a gasp at the familiar voice, and fought the surprising urge to jump into his arms at the sight of him.

"Fabian," she said, a relieved smile flashing across her face. "I didn't think you'd show."

His face was full of regret as he hurried to explain. "I'm so sorry, I was in the hospital, I didn't get out until the next night, I-"

"The hospital? What happened?" she cut him off, instantly worried.

"I took a tumble down the stairs the night before, I broke a bone and they had to keep me for a while to make sure I didn't have any internal bleeding or head injuries. I'm fine now. I just wish I'd been able to come."

"It's fine, Fabian, honestly. Come on, let's sit down," she said, grabbing his hand and pulling him down beside her. It was only then that it hit her.

She was looking at him full on for the first time, and he was gorgeous. His sharp blue eyes were bright in the moonlight, and his smile was infinitely kind.

"How old are you?" she asked before she could stop herself, curiosity getting the best of her.

Fabian smiled. "I'm 16, turning 17 soon. I'm guessing you're 16 as well?" She nodded, smiling right back. "Well, I think it's about time we got to know each other a little more, Nina."

And so they did.

They stayed until one in the morning swapping facts and stories about themselves. Things got a little awkward for a moment when they learned neither had ever kissed anyone before, for reasons she couldn't explain. But then he asked his next question and things smoothed over instantly.

When they stood to leave, they said their goodbyes to their loved ones and turned back to each other for a second. Fabian took a step toward her, and she looked up at him curiously.

He leaned down and kissed her cheek.

"Goodnight, Nina Martin. I'll see you next year."

Then he was gone, leaving her blushing and stuttering under the moonlit sky.

* * *

_February 14th, 2011_

Nina dreamed about Fabian every other night.

She didn't know why their annual meetings had made such an impact on her, but she knew there was nothing she could do about it. Fabian was in her thoughts almost constantly, and she didn't even know his last name.

Most of the time, she dreamed of that simple peck on the cheek. The closest she'd ever gotten to a real kiss.

But when she saw him there waiting for her with a gigantic bouquet of lavender roses, a grin appeared on her face and her nervousness slipped away.

"You remembered," she said, looking over the flowers. "I'm surprised."

"Remembered?" he repeated, his eyebrows scrunching up in confusion.

"That lavender is my favorite color?" she replied, arching an eyebrow at him. "I love them, Fabian. Thank you, really."

A relieved chuckle slip through his lips. "Oh, yeah, of course. Consider it a Valentine's Day gift. You deserved something pretty." She blushed the same, dark shade she had last year.

"They would have liked you," she said out of the blue. "My parents. They would have like you a lot, I think." His eyes widened, apparently startled by this statement, and she thought she saw a small blush rise to his cheeks for a second.

"Thank you, Nina. I hope they would have."

Then they sat, and conversation once again picked up as they traded bits and pieces of information. By the end of the night, he knew more than her own grandmother did about her, and she didn't mind one bit. And then hit the last question of the night. The one she'd like to think changed everything.

"Do you have a boyfriend?" he asked. She froze, then slowly forced herself to relax.

"Um, no. I still haven't even been kissed yet," she said, sighing a little before she could stop herself. "It'll happen at some point, when the time is right."

He shifted closer to her. "Well… what if the right time was right now?" he suggested, stuttering over his words in the most adorable way ever. She held back a surprised squeak.

_Please. Please, please, please._

"Then I certainly won't tell it to give me a rain check," she whispered, leaning toward him a little.

She barely caught his smile before his lips were pressed against hers, and a hand was wrapping into her hair.

The kiss was uncoordinated, and to anyone else, if was obviously their first. But it was sweet, and it was wonderful, and it was all she could have ever hoped for. His lips were softer than she'd expected. Her whole body tingled just at this simple act.

Then the clock struck midnight, and their night was over. They pulled back, out of breath and a little wild-eyed, their cheeks flushed in the midst of their emotions.

"I hope you don't have a girlfriend, then," Nina murmured, a small giggle making its way out of her lips. "I didn't think to ask."

"No, no girlfriend," he replied, just as out of breath as her. "I like someone, I'm not interested in dating anyone else."

And like that, the magic of the night was zapped away. Her breath caught, and her heart dropped.

He liked someone. Someone that wasn't her.

She knew she shouldn't be that hurt - they may have known each other for five years, but they'd only seen each for six days total - and not even full days, just a few hours in the dead of the night. She still didn't know his last name. She didn't know where he lived, or what school he went to. She may have known the deep stuff, but she didn't know the basic stuff. Why would he ever like her?

But she was hurt anyway.

The next five minutes passed in a blur. She remembered his worried glances and his questions as to whether or not she was okay or if he'd done something wrong. She brushed them all off with empty reassurances, and she knew he could tell they were just that - empty.

She put a hand over the top of her parents' grave, grabbed her bouquet of roses, then walked away. And when Fabian called after her, she didn't turn around. She kept walking, and she didn't look back.

It was two months later, after many bad dreams over that night and after each of the dozen roses had died, that she happened upon a website with flower meanings - the same one she'd looked up the meaning of black roses on, all those years ago.

_Lavender Rose - True Love._

And everything clicked.

* * *

_February 14th, 2012_

Fabian was there, looking quite distressed, especially when he saw her. He stood and immediately began rambling.

"Look, I think you misunderstood me last year, I didn't mean that I liked someone else, I meant that-"

"Oh, shut up," she cut him off, and pulled him down so she could press her lips to his. He tensed in surprise, but almost immediately melted into the kiss. This one was longer and impossibly sweeter, and when she at last pulled away, she put her head against his chest and closed her eyes, content. "Happy Valentine's Day, Fabian."

His arms wrapped around her, and she smiled into his shirt.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Nina," he whispered into her ear, and everything was perfect.

* * *

_Many, Many Years Later_

_Fabian Rutter - Nina Rutter_

_Born: February 21st, 1995 - Born: July 7th, 1995_

_Died: January 11th, 2099 - Died: February 14th, 2106_

_Husband and Wife, Parents, Eternal Friends, Soulmates_

_~Roses Don't Always Have to be Red~_

* * *

**A/N: **Thoughts? Critiques? If so, please, please share them in the review box below! I'd love to hear what you think, whether it's good or bad. For my Scarred fans, I'll see you on bright and early on Sunday morning with the chapter update. And for those that are new to my writing, I have more stories available on my page, so please go check them out if you liked this! **Thanks for reading!**


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